Costumes
by Tigeroo
Summary: 5 short stories and drabbles about costumes Alex and Olivia might have worn. AO femslash


**Five costumes Alex and Olivia (never) wore**

5 more short stories and drabbles about our favourite ADA and detective, this time a bit longer.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, well except for all typos and mistakes.

–

**Secret**

Casey and Serena had asked her to join them.

"Really Alex, you have to get out more", Serena had told her when she had tried to decline the invitation.

"But Rena, it's a gay club", she had complained.

"Well then it fits you perfectly", Casey had replied, rolling her eyes.

"But what if someone sees me?", Alex had insisted. "You know I want to run for office, I can't afford to be out."

"Alex, it's Halloween", Serena had stated with an exasperated sigh that was equivalent to a juvenile 'well, duh!'. "Wear a costume, a mask, hell a plastic bag if you want to... Besides, all women there are gay, so no one will out you."

Still unmotivated but feeling beat Alex had finally agreed.

Sipping her third strawberry daiquiri she looked through her veil. Her costume as an oriental belly dancer was a complete success: her identity was kept secret behind the veil, but the seductive and revealing clothes were a big hit with the ladies and she had both accepted and declined nearly a dozen offers of drinks, dances, or company.

Somehow Serena and Casey had managed to disappear sometime earlier and Alex had a strong suspicion that they might be trying out the more private areas at the back of the club. She mentally shrugged, she didn't mind, contrary to her expectations she was enjoying herself.

Turning towards the bar to get rid of her glass, she nearly dropped it. On the stool which her previous suitor had left five minutes earlier the familiar form of one detective Olivia Benson was sitting, nursing a Whiskey.

Alex eyed the brunette. The detective was wearing her usual outfit, Jeans, sweater, and leather jacket. Olivia turned, feeling the eyes of the exotic beauty on her.

"See something you like?", she asked, surveying the blonde.

"Yes", Alex replied, disguising her voice. "But you are not wearing a costume."

"Ah, you are mistaken lady, cause I am the sheriff", Olivia drawled, opening her jacket a little to reveal her badge. "So, may I buy you a drink?"

Alex accepted. The flirted a little, they danced for a while and before Olivia left they shared a kiss that left them both breathless and weak in the knees. Alex never revealed her true identity, not daring to think about the possible consequences, and Olivia never asked.

It wasn't necessary anyway: Olivia would recognize the ADA everywhere, her hair, her body, the soft smell, the low timbre of her voice were deeply imprinted in the detective's soul. Besides, Casey and Serena had tipped her off...

–

**Sexy**

They didn't need much role-playing in their bedroom, and the things they saw at work each day made lots of common fantasies seem inappropriate. But sometimes one of them thought that they should spice things up a little. Tonight it was Olivia's turn to be surprised. She was still at her desk at the precinct when Alex' text arrived:

"I want you to come home, go straight to the bedroom and put on the clothes I put on the bed."

Olivia looked at her watch. Her shift had ended half an hour before, so she grabbed her jacket and car keys, told her colleagues goodbye and drove home. Entering the apartment she was greeted by the delicious smell of Italian food, emanating from the kitchen. Remembering Alex' strict orders she closed the door and went into the bedroom. True enough, black trousers with suspenders and a white dress shirt were waiting on the bed, and good god, was that a tie?. Olivia chuckled when she saw that her girlfriend had thoughtfully arranged their favourite strap-on on top of a pair of boxers. But soon her amusement gave way to arousal and she quickly stripped and changed.

Smoothing her unruly short hair she decided to follow her nose and entered the kitchen looking for Alex.

"Honey, I'm home", she called, before losing all coherent thought.

Next to an overflowing table stood Alex with a martini glass in hand, her hair neatly arranged in a bun, wearing nothing but a frilly apron and a smile.

"Welcome home, darling, dinner's ready!"

–

**Role reversal**

Most people considered Olivia to be "the guy" in their relationship: she wore the badge, handcuffs, service weapon, and leather jacket so convincingly at work. She could knock down perps and her short hair and muscular body made more than one female witness ask her out. Now, Alex on the contrary wore skirts and high heels to work. She saw her hairdresser and her manicurist at least once a month. Her weapons were her intelligence and a sharp tongue, not brute force.

But it had been Alex who had asked the detective out.

"I'll pick you up at seven. Wear a dress", she had told the brunette in her deep voice, not leaving room for refusal.

So Olivia had worn a burgundy dress that had complemented Alex smart pantsuit perfectly. They had listened to Olivia's favourite opera sitting in the Cabot's private loge at the MET, before Alex had wined and dined her date at her favourite Italian. Afterwards Olivia had invited the blonde up for coffee. And the rest as they say was history.

No, Olivia was definitely not the guy in their relationship, Alex mused with a smug grin, listening to the tough detective squeal like a girl when faced with the ADA's expert wielding of her handcuffs in the privacy of their own bedroom.

–

**Crazy**

They hadn't seen each other all day. Apparently because it was "tradition" and brought "bad luck". Olivia had just rolled her eyes. Nothing about this wedding was traditional, and considering the brides, bad luck was just around the corner anyway. But she had been overruled. She shrugged while inspecting herself one last time in the mirror, at least this was a one-time deal that would never be repeated. Or so she hoped... Examining herself she shook her head. She looked ridiculous. Hopefully she could hide in the back when it would come to taking the wedding pictures, but Alex had already shot her a dirty look when she had mentioned this yesterday and had told her, that if Alex herself had to stand at the front, so would Olivia.

Taking a deep breath, Olivia turned around, at least she was in Canada where no one knew her. Well, except for all of her colleagues and friends who had been flown in of course. She felt a tug at her arm.

"We need to go, the music already started", Abbie whispered excitedly.

Olivia nodded, offering the Texan her arm. Since this was a non-traditional wedding, both brides and bridesmaids would enter from one side of the chapel at the same time and meet at the altar.

Feeling the collective eyes of the congregation Olivia had to fight hard not to blush or to erupt in hysterical giggles. But when her eyes fell on the two women approaching the altar from the other side she forgot all about her earlier embarrassment. She would never understand how Abbie had managed to convince Casey to agree to a Texan style wedding. She would never know whether Casey had mumbled "You can take the girl outta Texas, but you can't take Texas out of the girl" before she had nodded her assent because the lime green and purple lover had really bad taste, or because she really loved her soon-to-be-wife. And right at this moment she didn't care that as Abbie's best "man" she had to wear jeans, leather chaps and a cowboy hat, and that she hadn't seen Alex since last night because they had to calm their respective best friends and keep them company. Because at this very moment her own upper-class, sophisticated, New England girlfriend was standing next to Casey wearing a saloon girl dress and a Stetson, and that was just priceless.

–

**Sad**

Alex had always loved this specific outfit of Olivia's, so it was more than appropriate for this occasion. Her boots were shiny, her clothes neatly pressed, and the cap impeccable. She used to love these clothes, for a long time they had represented who she was: her position, her power, her goodness. Then Alex had come along, and suddenly the clothes that had disappeared out of her daily life when she had made detective, and had been hanging in the back of her closet, had found an entry into their bedroom, where, again, they had represented Olivia's position and power (and goodness, if the noises Alex had emitted were of any relevance).

But at this very moment Olivia was no longer sure who she was, and she felt more powerless than ever before. In front of Alex' fake grave, attending the charade that was her true love's supposed funeral her trusted police uniform was nothing more than a masquerade.


End file.
